


Disney Princess

by brave_hi_me



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party - Fandom, Starbomb, TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Adulting, Bars and Pubs, Character building, Concerts, Constructive Criticism Welcome, Drinking, F/M, Inspired by Real Events, LITERALLY, My First Fanfic, NYC, New York City, No shame, Not Beta Read, Philadelphia, Philly, Post-Graduation, Rock Hard Tour, Self-Insert, Swearing, Traveling, accuracy, be gentle guys!, descriptive, east coast, fem!reader - Freeform, friends - Freeform, possible moving, reader is main character, reader is single, sweaty subways, year and a half ago, you are an adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-09-20 12:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17022642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brave_hi_me/pseuds/brave_hi_me
Summary: You laughed and bounced up and down, feeling light on your feet and without a care in the world. In front of you was just an ocean of waving hands and screams. You closed your eyes and waved your hands back and forth like seaweed caught in the tide.“Ohman.” You heard, still lost in the motion.“I'vegotto go with the Disney Princess in the back.” He spoke.You slowly opened your eyes, looking for the person he’d called on. Facing to the front, everyone was looking toward you. Even Danny and Brian. It was probably someone behind you.You look behind. There was no one.Turning back around, you realize that everyone’s gaze was focused onyou....Holy shit.





	1. Heat of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! So I've been a huge Game Grumps and NSP fan for a while, but never considered writing a fanfiction about them. I was just super busy with college and life, plus there's a whole goddamn database full of wonderful stories here already. I'd been to an NSP+TWRP concert before, but decided to go again during their Rock Hard tour in NYC to visit my friends as well.
> 
> It was so fuckin' rad.
> 
> This is based off of true events that legitimately happened to me. Some names, places, and circumstances are changed to protect my friends and fit the plot I wanted, and the reader/dan relationship starts with a different decision than the one I ultimately made. 
> 
> I decided to write this because I feel like it can be hard for people to get the courage to go to a concert or do the things in life that would be scary, and I feel like this story is a wonderful example of how getting out of your comfort zone can lead to amazing circumstances. It took a lot of guts for me to get the ticket I wanted, talk to people I didn't know, and basically go through parts of the journey alone. As a relatively not anxious person, the circumstances made me kinda stressed out and sweaty ahaha.
> 
> It was awesome and so worth it to go to the concerts and see them live! I would absolutely recommend it.
> 
> Main character is based off myself (shameless insert whatever), but is ultimately you, the reader! From the perspective of a woman going through some life choices. Some drinking involved, but only for the reader and friends, if or when Dan is at a bar (wink wink) he will not be drinking alcohol. I'm trying to keep stuff as accurate as possible.
> 
> Swearing is involved ahaha.
> 
> I'm kinda feelin' this out as I go along, and I don't have a strict plan as far as how many chapters this is gonna be. I'm totally down for suggestions and helpful criticism.
> 
> Thanks, and enjoy!!!

##### Part 1

Admittedly, the train was a bit later than you’d hoped.

Staring down the track didn’t help it get here any faster, but at least it felt like you were doing _something._

All the stuff you needed for a weekend in the big apple was sitting around the fence behind where you were standing. The rising sun was beginning to warm up your back in a way that made you thankful for deodorant. 

It was the perfect time for a small breakfast break. You sat back down on the warm concrete to fish out a granola bar.

Though this was not your first time on a train, or going to New York City, this was your first time taking the train there. You’d driven from Philly to NYC before, and it was a goddamn pain in the ass. So many tolls and way too much traffic. Plus it was impossible trying to find a parking spot near where your friend, Maggie, lives in Manhattan. 

You heard the long whistle and creaking of the railway before actually seeing the train (coming from the direction you weren’t looking towards).

It came to a hissing stop in front of you. Grabbing your backpack, you hopped on board.

Scanning the train for the best window seat in the car, you picked one in the middle facing forward. You sat down again, sighing. There was going to be a lot of walking today, so you reasoned that the more time you spent sitting, the less tired you were going to be.

You popped in your earbuds, deciding to psych yourself up for the NSP/TWRP concert later today. Some nice gnarly synths started playing.

Tonight was going to be a wild ride of excitement, as you’d finally given in and purchased the VIP ticket for the Rock Hard tour. A few of your friends were meeting up with you at the concert, but no one else had bought the VIP ticket. It was a bit nerve wracking to think that you were just going to straight up walk in by yourself, but you were confident that you’d have fun anyways. Now you just had to summon the talkative person in you to do all the work.

You texted Maggie to tell her you were on the train, and plugged in your phone into its charger.

It had been a while since you’d seen her last. Probably two years ago? Honestly, who knew anymore. Life had been hectic as always, but even more so because you had been finishing up your second and third degrees. 

So many goddamn degrees, if only you’d taken a break before college to figure out what you’d really wanted to do. But, then you’d never have met your closest friends. 

You had started out in art school, and graduated at the same time as Maggie. You were in love with art, and enjoyed painting, blacksmithing, photography, and glass blowing. Though, you’d found it a different thing entirely to actually work in art. It kinda sucked the soul out of you.

Then, you’d decided to work part time and go back to school for your other interest: science. More specifically…. Physics. Yeah, totally the easiest major by far. It was tough but incredibly rewarding, and you liked the type of challenge much more than how art challenged you. You continued that path to finally graduate with a B.S. in Physics and a M.S. in Materials Engineering.

You had FINALLY graduated this past spring in 2017, with a fuck-ton of job applications. You were now in the midst of negotiating to work for a big company in upstate New York, and using that time to chill the fuck out and do what you want over the summer.

Just because you had stopped doing art (more specifically metalsmithing) as a job, didn’t mean that you hated art now. In a way, it was much more enjoyable to make whatever you wanted with your tools and torch at home. Plus, at least your friends had someone to talk to anytime about what the fuck kind of engagement ring they were supposed to give to their partners. You’d even designed a few special rings for close friends.

It was hard to try and make the art you wanted to do while in school or even working. It crossed your mind that Ninja Brian had done something similar while in Ninja Sex Party. 

Hmmm… that could be a good question for the meet and greet. 

You pondered a bit more about what kind of question you’d ask if you were called on. There was a pretty good chance that no matter how you tried to stand out, you wouldn’t get to ask a question. Meh, well, maybe you’d just keep that one in mind. 

There was another NSP concert you’d attended in Silver Springs, Maryland, about a year ago. You’d gone with Maggie’s younger brother because another friend had bailed on you, even though you’d already paid for the ticket. Oh well, life happens, you suppose. You’d still had a lot of fun, not regretting a moment of it.

Admittedly, you felt that you had become somewhat attracted to the tall dude with the jewfro, which was remarkably similar to your own ginger jewfro. Something about his chill demeanor and sense of humor had stuck to you.

Plus, you felt that you could probably give him some hair tips.

##### Part 2

The engineer in you really liked trains… _really_ liked them. When you were a kid, you used to make your whole family watch Thomas the Tank Engine with you. Now that you know the conductor used to be voiced by George Carlin, you kind of like it even more.

Unfortunately, train stations did not hold the same kind of excitement for you. There was definitely some dread in the pit of your stomach with the thought that you could have gotten off at the wrong stop (even though the anal mathematician in you had quadruple checked that the train you’d gotten onto was the right one going from 30th Street Station to Pennsylvania Station, going so far as to estimate the time you would get there based on speed and distance). 

You were sweating now, in the hot underground trying to text Maggie about where she was and how to get there. Finally heading up the few steps up to the larger platform, you saw her balayage blonde hair in the fluorescent lighting.

“Maggie!” You belted. She snapped her head in your direction and yelled your name, smiling.

“I thought I was late! I didn’t see you around up here and I was like ‘oh god did I miss her?’” She laughed, and we aggressively hugged each other, sweaty friend to sweaty friend.

“Nope! Didn’t miss me, just had no fuckin’ clue where to go. It’s so hot down here, I think I’ve already sweated out all the water I just drank.” You groaned. She nodded her head. As a physicist, you estimated that the temperature was around 12 billion degrees Kelvin, give or take a few thousand.

“Yup, let’s get the fuck outta here. You hungry?”

“Awe hell yeah I am! Whatcha feelin'? It’s my treat since I’m freeloading for two nights.”

We walked to the exit, deciding on a yummy Asian fusion restaurant near her apartment. 

“We can go get food, drop off your stuff at my place, then head to Times Square a few hours early.” Maggie suggested.

“Yeah I’m down for that, it should only be like a 15 minute metro ride, right? We’ve got plenty of time to explore, too.”

Maggie has been a good friend since the art school days, you two having bonded over sleepless nights (graphics design for her, and computer modeling for you). It was easy to get right back into step with your friendship, the both of you catching the other up on life stuff. 

The outside air was nice and refreshing compared to the underground. You walked a few blocks down from the station to the metro entrance. You had to stop and fumble for your wallet in the hot confines of the underground platform for your metro card, which still had enough bucks loaded on it for a few rides. You let Maggie guide you to the correct platform to take you south to her place. The noise and loudness from trains and passengers made you feel gross, but you just tried to talk over it.

“Are we meeting up with Cathy and Xavier for lunch, or are we just going to meet them at the concert?” You near shouted. She leaned her head closer to you to hear what you’d said.

“We’ll see them at the concert. They’re driving in from Connecticut then heading back afterwards.” 

“Oh, OK. I wanted to see them for a bit longer, but that’s fine. We’ve all got work to do.” I nodded.

“Yeah, I have a design proposal due Monday morning, but it’s done already. Just want to finish up some details.” She waved her hand nonchalantly. 

Both her and Cathy had been able to score some sweet jobs right out of college, both in NYC. They worked in the same overall company but in separate divisions. Maggie worked in event designing, and Cathy worked in social media. You were a bit jealous that they got to see each other more often than you were able to, but it wasn’t really that big of a deal. You’d get over it.

You’d lived with Maggie, Cathy, Ella, and Bea for a few years in art school. All four of them were graphic designers, and you were the only metalsmith in the apartment. You’d lived in north Philly, not super far from Fairmount park, in a big row home all together. It had its ups and downs, but it was ultimately a great experience, with only a few close calls. Your neighbors were friendly towards you, which was more than you had expected honestly. The normal student and permanent resident interaction was not so great in Philly. 

But Philly had its own down to earth charm. It was close to relatives and friends, plus you had been able to work and go back to school. The area was filled with good memories for you. 

A pang of sadness hit you at the thought of possibly moving away for a new job. You took a deep breath. Oh well, it was time for another adventure. Things had gotten too comfy, and you’d gotten the tell-tale itch to move. 

Working on jeweler’s row just wasn’t interesting anymore. It paid the bills, but didn’t get you to where you had wanted to go. You had learned incredible goldsmithing techniques from the master you had worked under, and you were leaving amiably, but you had known for years that the charm of being a jeweler would wear out. That’s why you had gone back to school.

The train pulled up to your stop. You left with thoughts of the future in your head, and Maggie by your side.

##### Part 3

The small Asian restaurant was nice and cool inside, you thought, gulping down an ice water. 

“Oh god, _so good_.” You moaned. Your backpack was sitting by your side, some of it disgustingly damp from sweat. There was a high chance that your legs were going to stick to the pleather of the booth, but for the time being, you were happy to ignore it.

“Yeah, there’s something about the city that makes it ten times as hot as it should be.” She agreed.

“It’s probably the asphalt soaking up all the sun. And you’ve got these huge reflective buildings, too.” 

“You’re probably right, that’s what I think.”

“I’m just guessing.” You shrugged your shoulders. Maggie looked up from the menu she had been scouring.

“Dude, it’s crazy to think you went back to school for physics.” She started, “I can’t imagine going from art to math.” 

“It was just… a lot of studying, and a lot of banging my head on the table.” You laughed, “Besides, I _wanted_ to do it. And by the way,” You leaned in, “the math part wasn’t that bad.” 

“Pfft, sure it wasn’t. I’m not a math person, so what would I know.” She gawked.

You laughed at her again, “No! I’m serious! If you took the time to understand it, the math wasn’t actually terrible! It was hard though to do a ton of practicing and problems.” You continued, “I actually learned the most when I was tutoring calculus.” 

She smiled at you, “Yeah, whatever. You’ll never catch me doing calculus.”

“Yeah, that shit’s a hard gateway drug.” She rolled her eyes so hard that you could practically feel it alter the earth’s rotation.

The waitress came by and got your orders, leaving with the menus.

“Hey, guess what I’ve been really into lately.” She asks you.

“What? Your boyfriend?” You say.

“Yes, but no. I’ve been really digging avocado lately.” She whispers excitedly.

“ _Whoa_! No way! Maggie? Eating a green thing?” You have never seen Maggie eat a green thing… ever. She’s just not all about the texture of it. There have been many times where you’d eaten her salad because she didn’t want to just throw it away.

“Yeah! I dunno, I just like it now! I’ve been ordering California rolls with avocado, burgers with avocado, and even putting some on _toast_ with _bacon_!”

“Oh my god that’s awesome! Avocado is _delicious_ and good for you! Have you tried anything else?”

“Nope.” She quips, “Just livin’ the avocado life.”

You laugh heartily, “That’s a good place to start, congrats!”

The both of you are laughing when the waitress returns with your bentos. You notice that she’d ordered the California rolls with avocado. 

You’d missed this easy type of hanging out, especially with Maggie. She was wonderfully confident and a breath of fresh air compared to others you’d met. You missed the old art days almost entirely for the people you were with.

“So…” She starts, just as you shove a sweet potato roll into your mouth, “I don’t want to be the mom here, but how did that date go?” 

You try to swallow your food without choking.

“The one with the guy from Berkeley?” She nods. “It was… really fuckin’ strange. We met up at a tea shop, because I’ll do anything if it involves tea, and the first thing he does is point to my soft pretzel that I was eating, and tell me that pretzels are fucking gross.” 

“I should have known from then, that it wasn’t going to be a good time. I mean, look at me!” You gesture to yourself, laughing, “I’m _from_ Philly! I’m practically _made_ of soft pretzels!”

You recount your story, where by the end of the date, you had run away from the weirdo. Just straight up catching the bus to escape. And the part where he tried to tickle your chin with a blade of grass? You had actually laughed in his face because of how strange it had been. Not one of your finest moments, but whatever.

“Yeah… I think I’m very OK with not being in a relationship right now. I’ve got too much stuff to figure out life-wise.”

She nods, “You do you, man. I don’t blame you, after that.”

“I mean, it does get lonely sometimes, but I just don’t feel like I need a relationship to make me happy. I don’t know…” You trail off, thinking about cat ladies and modern social stereotypes.

“Just see where life takes you.” Maggie added, “You never know. I met John at a goddamn dive bar in SOHO, and tried to tackle him ‘cause I thought he stole my purse. And look at us now! Practically domestic.” 

You laughed, seeing the gruff football player side of Maggie come out. You’d seen her try to tackle Cathy’s boyfriend Xavier during a drunken bender in Philly. That guttural yell still haunts your dreams.

She was right, though. Maybe you just had to chill out and see what happens. And take a bit of time off from going on dates. You’d never really been in a long relationship anyways, and you did enjoy the autonomy.

After finishing the food, and Maggie’s untouched salad, you payed and left to go to her apartment. It was a small studio apartment on the second floor, which she was in the process of packing and moving to Jersey City to live with John. 

The place was small and semi-crammed with boxes. You set up your space on the pull-out couch and double checked if your outfit was going to work for the rest of the day. You changed out of your sweaty shirt into a lighter t-shirt, and tied a hoodie around your waist for when you would undoubtedly get colder. Your converse were fine, better to be comfortable you thought.

After a bit, you grabbed a small purse out of your backpack and the both of you headed out for Times Square.

##### Part 4

The line outside of the Viacom PlayStation Theater hadn’t been that long when you emerged from the metro. It was a nice day and you didn’t want to push your Scottish genes to see if you’d get sun-burnt or not, so Maggie had suggested a really cute manga store nearby. It was adorable, with a little café on the inside and a crap-load of cute stickers.

You settled on a little book filled with cute dogs. It was all in Japanese, but who cares? The images spoke for themselves.

You’d left the store an hour later to find that the line for the concert had grown _exponentially_.

It now went a whole city block around the building. You cursed the cute dogs in your purse.

You walked up to one of the lines closest to the entrance, picking out a friendly looking person towards the back. “Hey! Is this the VIP line?” You asked.

“Yeah! You VIP?” 

“Yup!” You asked if they would let you in line with them, and they agreed. You squeezed through the barrier and said goodbye to Maggie.

“HEY! YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED THERE.” A security guard yelled at you. “GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE.”

He walked up to you, “But this is the VIP line, and I have a VIP ticket.” You reasoned. But he was having none of it.

“GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE.” You acquiesced, squeezed back through the barrier and headed to the back of the line with Maggie.

“What the fuck? They’re already calling VIP tickets for entrance, why did he send you back here?” 

“I don’t know, man! Maybe because I cut in line or something?” You shook your head. The security guard had told you that they would be going around and calling VIP tickets for entrance, and that there was only one line. But, all the VIP ticket holders were already called to the front of the line. You had no clue.

After about fifteen minutes, you got impatient.

“I’m just going to double check, they’re calling my ticket so I guess I’ll go to the front of the line.”

You walk back up to the entrance and see that the line up front is practically empty. You ask someone in the line if it was VIP, and they’d said yes, again. 

“Can I hop in? I’m VIP too.” 

“Yeah, man, get in here.” They replied.

You squeezed through the barrier to the back of the VIP line again, seeing that ahead of you was the bag checking point. You sighed in frustration. 

Just as the line had become empty in front of you, the security guard had come back and yelled from behind the barrier, “ **HEY YOU GET TO THE BACK OF THE LINE!** ”

You paused. 

Ahead of you was a completely empty long stretch of line. 

Behind you was the barrier and the security guard.

You looked forward.

You looked backward.

_Fuck it._

And you ran forward.

You made it to the metal detector, trying to rush and get your stuff checked before the guard came to remove you or something.

There was a dad and his daughter getting checked in front of you. The dad looked at you.

“Nice.” He gave you a thumbs up. You chuckled awkwardly.

“That guy was trying to get me to go to the back, but I have a VIP ticket. I don’t know what was going on.” You waved your hands in frustration.

You got all your stuff checked and got the ‘OK’ to head through the metal detector. You queued into _another_ line.

You double-checked for that security guard, but didn’t see anyone who looked like him. At least the guy and his daughter ahead of you seemed nice. The girl was carrying a small poster that she had made. Trying to sneak a peek of it, you saw the curly hair of your favorite Jewish look-alike.

“Dude, that picture looks awesome! Did you do it yourself?”

She nods emphatically, “Yeah, last night.”

“She’s gotten really into NSP, especially Danny.” Her dad adds.

“I can absolutely see why, his humor is fantastic.” You turn back to the girl, shake hands and exchange names with them both. The girl’s name was Anna, and she was thirteen, a bit younger than someone you’d expected to see at an NSP concert. 

“Your dad is _really_ cool for taking you to this concert, not a lot of parents would do that.”

The dad laughs, “I just wanted to make sure she was safe. I actually do a science podcast, and we’ve hosted Brian on air before. It wasn’t until my daughter started talking about NSP that I finally connected the two dots.” He continues, “We’d known him for a long time, but didn’t realize that _his_ band and the band _she_ liked were the same one. So here we are.”

“Wow.” Your eyebrows raised, “That’s incredible! Which podcast are you a part of?”

“It’s called ‘Climate Change with a Chance of Meatballs’, from Atlantic City, New Jersey.”

You cannot believe it. You have listened to CCCM for years. Almost as long as you’ve been watching Game Grumps. Holy shit.

You can’t snap yourself out of the fangirl, “I _love_ that podcast. You just released an episode about gravitational waves, right? And you interviewed Stephen Hawking!”

This is a dream come true for you. Who knew that you would get to meet more of your internet heroes today. You had just hoped to make it to the concert, really.

You talk to him about your educational background, legitimately discussing theories of possible materials to use for mars colonization, and the likely near future discovery of alien microbial life, occasionally talking to Anna about Game Grumps and which NSP songs were her favorite.

The line moved quickly while you chatted away, and once you had gotten your ticket scanned, it was practically a free-for-all trying to get to the stage floor. You’d been separated from the parent-daughter duo, so you took the time to check out the avenue.

There was a bar near the entrance of the concert hall, and a merch stand not far from that. You headed to the bar first to grab a bottled water and a strong drink to calm your nerves. You’re not into beer, but luckily there were quite a few cocktails. The entire mixed drink list consists of raunchy names and you laugh loudly into the air. Of course, it makes sense with NSP.

You pick ‘Monte’s Sex Potion’, giggling when you say the name. You stuffed the water bottle into your purse, which was getting a bit more packed with things than you’d have liked.

Your drink appeared before you in a clear plastic lidded cup. Paying the bartender you took a sip and coughed. _Whoa, strong._

Whelp, at least you’d had extra food for lunch. You head through the double doors and towards the concert stage. Hmm, it was smaller than the pictures had led you to believe. There were two upstairs alcoves for private guests, whereas the VIP members had all gathered in the mosh-pit area in front of the concert-style seating in the back. The seats had been blocked off, so you picked a spot near a pillar to lean your back against and sit on the floor while waiting for the fanfare to begin. You nursed your strong sexy cocktail while texting Maggie. The rest of your friends had shown up to the general admission line, and now they were all just waiting together to be allowed in.

A few minutes pass, when Anna and her dad walk up and sit next to you. You guys just ended up chatting like before, passing the time.

“You’re gonna love it, the last NSP concert I went to was a _lot_ of fun. And TWRP is amazing!” You reminisce, “I’m just sad we won’t see Arin this time around. Heard he’s got family stuff going on.”

There was a tell-tale tingling sensation spreading through your body, letting you know that you were definitely tipsy now. Not your fault you were a lightweight. You blamed genetics. In fact, people used to call your mom ‘two beer Tammy’.

OK, this would be the only drink you have here. There would be more partying later tonight, and you didn’t want to get sloppy drunk or too sleepy.

The lights dimmed above you, and the rest of the room screamed in anticipation. The three of you got up and made your way towards the stage. You tossed your empty drink into the trash, and the spotlights turned on. Most pointed towards the stage, but there were a few pointing into the audience. Probably for Dan and Brian to be able to pick people out in the audience.

Everyone had crammed into the area closest to the stage. You were not all about that tuna can life. You were feeling light and fuzzy, and you just kinda wanted your space to move. Towards the back of the crowd was an area lit by a spotlight with no one around. 

If you wanted to get called on, then you had to be seen. You didn’t have anything to wave to stand out from the crowd… but you _did_ have fuckin’ huge ginger hair. Maybe if you stood in the spotlight, it would look like a fluffy red cloud. You fluffed your hair and hoped for the best.

You moved to the spotlight and cheered with the rest of the noise.

After a quick introduction by a member of staff, two familiar men walked out on stage. You lost yourself to the excitement, smiling and cheering for them. You forgot how actually tall Danny was compared to Brian.

Dan took the mic standing at the front of the stage, smiling, “Holy _fuck_ , New York City _guys!_ ” 

**Screams, raucous applause, the works**

He waited for everyone to die down a bit, “We saw the lines outside and there are _so_ many people here! As you know, this is a very special venue for me, kinda like a homecoming back to NYC.” 

**Some more screams**

Much to your surprise, he wasn’t actually dressed in his Danny Sexbang costume. Instead, he had on a Rush t-shirt and jeans with his well worn pair of large sneakers. Brian was also casually dressed.

“Hey, we wanna thank you guys for coming here tonight and making our dreams come true. We fucking love you, and this would never have been possible without all your love and support.” He continued, ruffling his hair, “I mean, who would’ve known I’d be performing in Times Square in blue tight spandex?”

**Screams**

He passed the mic to Brian, who began explaining the rules, “We’re going to pick out people to ask questions, starting with Dan, then me, then Dan, you get it. No hair touching, no signing things, no throwing shit, no standing on shoulders. Just questions. Cool?”

You heard some collective booing, but yelled an affirmative. 

“OK Dan, wanna go? We’ve only got so much time.” He gave Dan the mic.

“Sure! Let’s start with…” He scanned the crowd, and everyone began jumping and waving their hands, vying for attention. He went with the tall guy dressed in a banana costume, twerking towards the stage. A member of staff handed him a mic.

If anything, you’d probably be called on later. You had no real expectation of _when_ or _if_ it would happen. For the time being, you were just having fun and laughing with the crowd, getting lost in the hype.

Next was Brian’s choice, and again you were jumping up and down, laughing and smiling.

He chose a girl in the front, who asked Danny a question about the next cover album. You listened intently, trying to focus on his answer. There was something about him that just radiated _calmness_. It was pleasant to hear him talk, answering the question without any sense of urgency. He took his time to make sure his answer was what he’d wanted to say, and you could kinda feel his thought process.

“Bro, you have to hurry it up.” Brian interjected, like a parent scolding their toddler.

“Ok, fine, _yeesh_.” Danny laughed, taking a step backward to see everyone. “Let’s see…”

You laughed and bounced up and down, feeling light on your feet and without a care in the world. In front of you was just an ocean of waving hands and screams. You closed your eyes and waved your hands back and forth like seaweed caught in the tide.

“Oh _man_.” You heard, still lost in the motion.

“I’ve _got_ to go with the Disney Princess in the back.” He spoke.

You slowly opened your eyes, looking for the person he’d called on. Facing to the front, everyone was looking toward you. Even Danny and Brian. It was probably someone behind you.

You look behind. There was no one.

Turning back around, you realize that everyone’s gaze was focused on _you_.

...

**_Holy shit._**


	2. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reader must ultimately make a different choice than I did.

##### Part 5

A few years ago, your mom thought it would be a good idea for your sister and her friend to get their scuba-diving licenses together. Unfortunately, she’d had no idea that the friend was actually _terrified_ of open water and claustrophobic spaces. She’d backed out only a week before training was supposed to start.

Luckily for you, summer break had just begun and you filled in the spot, annoyed that your mom hadn’t asked you first. The two of you studied the courses online just a day before training was supposed to start, staying up late into the night to pass the certification on the website.

The wetsuit had been extremely tight and uncomfortable, not really fitting in the places that it should have, since it was a rental. You trained at a local high school swimming pool, performing underwater tasks and learning diver’s sign language.

You’d passed exceptionally, your sister and you being the top two divers despite how much younger you were compared to the rest of the diving class. The final step was to get certified in open water, then you’d have the license to dive down to 50 feet.

It was a big trip up to Quarry Springs, an old granite mining quarry which had filled with fresh water after they hit an underwater spring by accident. The water in the Quarry was beautifully light aqua blue and mostly clear. There was some silt in the water from runoff, but it was considered good diving visibility.

There was a somewhat disturbing moment underwater when you’d been practicing navigating by your compass.

You were supposed to follow an underwater rope some 30 feet below the surface to a different area of interest, where a bus had been purposely sunk so that it was more fun for divers to explore.

The group had drifted off the underwater wooden platform one by one, each subsequently disappearing from view into the fine blue silt of open water. Then it was your turn. 

You’d pulled yourself along the rope, one hand after another, letting your legs take a break from constant paddling. It felt like you were going slightly deeper, so you’d adjusted your buoyancy. Taking a second to look around yourself, you’d realized that the safety of the platform was no longer visible behind you.

The only thing you could see was blue. 

You momentarily lost track of which way you had been travelling on the rope, and double checked your compass. 

It was then, that you’d felt alone. Everyone had gone into the murky depths of the water somewhere in front of you, and the only thing that discerned up from down were the rising bubbles from your breathing apparatus. You were almost terrified, staring into the deep blue, completely open but feeling like the space was closing in around you.

You could see how that experience would have filled others with fear of the great expanse. But for you….

There was something freeing about it. Completely lost in your own world, no real sound, only the gurgling of bubbles and the weightlessness of floating.

You’d stilled your breath, in awe of the feeling of wonder.

It was a familiar feeling. One that you could probably say was happening again.

The concert hall around you had become deafeningly silent, you felt like you were floating and being unequivocally lost in the moment.

Somewhere from the deep blue, a microphone was shoved into your hands.

“ _Uh_.” You said into the microphone, instinctively.

Your vision can back to you, but the spotlight you were standing under washed everything else into darkness. This must be what it’s like to be up on stage, being blinded by lights.

You thought you heard Danny say something over the speakers, but you were too preoccupied trying to get yourself together to understand what he’d said.

“Wow… this is _awesome_ …” You began, slowly, still composing yourself, “I’ve uh… been a fan of you guys for a while now…”

Ok, good start, just have to figure out what the _fuck_ you were going to say. Um... that question from earlier? What was it?

“Your stuff and Game Grumps has gotten me through some hard times… so uh, thank you for what you do.” 

You were aware again of all eyes being on you, but luckily the alcohol in your system blocked most of the stage fright trying to crawl up your throat.

Was the question about art? Science? Both? Yeah, ok... Do you ask Brian or Danny? Not Dan… he hasn’t really had the science experience that you wanted to ask about. Ok, ask Brian then. 

Yeah, good plan.

“I’m sorry Dan, I appreciate what you do, but my question is... actually for Brian.” You say apologetically, hoping your voice sounds sincere.

You can see some movement up on stage, and hear him respond in some way, but the blood rushing in your ears keeps you from really hearing what he’d said, exactly.

“... Oh!.... Brian… my time... popular… cute...” Is all you can make out. You laugh quietly, pretending that you’d heard.

Brian’s nasally voice prompts you to continue asking your question.

“I’m uh… I went back to school for my uh… degrees in physics and materials engineering. I love it, but I feel that it’s hard to find spare time to make art.” You pause to catch a breath, why are you so out of breath all of a sudden? 

“How did you manage to write your research papers and pursue your art at the same time?” You finish, strongly this time.

“Holy _fuck_ , so smart!” Dan exclaims. You’re happy that you’ve calmed down enough to hear what they say again. Dan’s smooth voice is like a salve on your nerves.

You blush and giggle into the mic. This is totally happening, this is _real life_.

“Hmm…” Brian begins, “Well you have to focus your time on your work of course, but I found that your art will make time for itself any way it can. You’ve got to prioritize the things that you truly want to get done.” 

His answer makes sense to you, it’s pretty much what you’d thought he would say.

“There were times where I would come home from teaching, being drained, but pushing through that to get songs finished on time.” 

You nod your head in agreement, having felt something similar to his experience.

“But ultimately, you’ve got to really enjoy the art you make, otherwise it will be extremely difficult to finish any of it. And if life gets in the way...? It’s alright. Don’t berate yourself for not doing something or getting it done when you aren’t able to. Life takes priority.”

Oh shit, yeah he’s right. You had been feeling guilty about not doing as much art as you’d wanted. But your _whole life_ was different now. There were other priorities and challenges that seemed much more pressing than trying to finish an art project.

Of course, you had things in mind, like writing and trying blacksmithing again. But those things wouldn’t be fun if you were forcing yourself to do them. For years you had focused solely on art, but in a way, that was what made you dislike it. You needed a balance of art _and_ science, something that nobody truly understood.

It was always one or the other for people. Your physics peers didn’t understand that the art you loved to do was a part of who you were, and your friends from art school didn’t understand that you couldn’t give up the half of you that was dedicated to physics and science.

There were very few people who understood what it was like to be torn down the middle and pulled apart by the two things you loved the most. Most had told you to just choose one side, or tried to convince you to do what _they’d_ thought you should do, fitting _their_ image of who you were.

No one had told you that doing _both_ was ok.

Your art experience had given you a completely unique way of understanding scientific theories… Something that people had been somewhat jealous of. You were capable of being both an artist and a physicist at the same time… you _had_ to be.

You hummed into the microphone, before someone preemptively took it away from you for the next person to be called upon.

“Thank you!” You shouted, hoping to be heard. You saw some movement up on stage.

“You’re very welcome.” Brian responds, “In my opinion, you should do what makes sense for the time being, putting priority on what truly needs to happen for the here and now.”

Goddamn… Brian could be sensible when he wanted to be. You knew it… you’d read his papers on string theory… but it was still strange to see it happen in the moment. This was still the same guy who kept calling Danny a ‘sexy widdle baby’.

The crowd started chanting again for Brian to call on them.

“Thanks for the question, cutie!” You heard dan say through the mic, then turn his attention back to the crowd.

You were still riding high from everything, and you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself now that you had been called upon so early. People were pushing you back and forth.

First, you were gonna get out of the mosh zone. Floating your way backwards and out of the spotlight, you found yourself chilling in the way back of the crowd, a bit farther than before to give yourself the space you needed.

You stood there in stunned silence, repeating the event to yourself in your head so that you wouldn’t forget it. Pulling out your phone, you took some snapshots of the stage to post later.

Holy _fuck_. This was real. This had actually happened.

Danny had called you a _Disney Princess_. Your feet were starting to feel sore from standing for so long, so you knew that you probably hadn’t died and gone to proverbial heaven. You had gotten to ask your question… and received a legitimately helpful answer.

The questions continued, and you found yourself casually enjoying the back and forth dialogue. Some questions were of a similar caliber as yours, others were about video games, and an annoying amount of questions were asking Danny if they could touch his hair.

Dude, can’t people follow directions? 

As a fellow curly haired individual, you groaned at the thought of some sweaty person touching your hair. It had happened a disturbingly frequent number of times. Especially moms at the grocery store for some reason.

You lost yourself in reverie, until Brian had called out that it was time for the last question. People who hadn’t been called upon were screaming wildly, trying to be noticed. 

Now that the spotlight was no longer burning a hole in your vision, you could see the facial expressions of both Danny and Brian. You watched Brian’s eyes zoom to a spot in front of you, body language changing.

“Anna, in the back.” He spoke decisively.

Dan looked puzzled, tilting his head, “What? Anna? Do you _know_ someone?”

Anna was finally handed the mic, the biggest grin you’d ever seen plastered on her face.

Damn, you guess they _were_ close friends with him. You didn’t completely hear her question, but you knew it was for Dan and involved something about their next music video.

He responds slowly, pissing off Brian even more, then finally the questions are over.

“Bye lovelies!” Dan continues, sensing Brian’s deadly stare, “We’ll see you all in a bit! I gotta pack my junk into the spandex.” He laughs.

“ **Rock Fuck!** ” Brian yells, and the audience yells back.

##### Part 6

It was only when they’d left the stage that you realized you had to pee like a motherfucker. You jogged out of the hall with a swarm of people to find the bathrooms.

You took some time to pinch your cheek in front of the mirrors. Ouch. Still alive. You grabbed your VIP signed poster from the merch table and headed back in to sit against the pillar.

Trying to check your phone, you realized it was taking much longer to turn on. Huh, that’s odd. You press the buttons again and again. Nothing.

 _Shit fuck_. You still had to tell your friends where you were so that they could find you once they’d been let in. There were a shit ton of people here, they’d never be able to spot you in the audience. Immersed in the problem, Anna and her dad had come back over to sit with you. Wow, you guessed you might have made some unlikely friends.

“Hey, you had a great question back there.” Her dad says, eyes crinkled.

You laugh, “Thanks, it was nerve wracking. I liked your question, too.” You turn to Anna, “Brian must really like you, he called you by name. I bet a ton of people were jealous.” 

She does the kid-like thing where she doesn’t really respond to you, and instead kinda stares into your face. Like a person trying to figure out a puzzle.

You turn back to your phone, trying to turn it on or get it to do _anything_. 

“ _Goddamnit_.” You sigh, why now? Why did it choose _now_ to die on you.

“You didn’t tell us you were in to art.” Her dad says.

“Huh? Oh… yeah. That was my previous degree. I was a Goldsmith for a while.”

“What? People can still be Goldsmiths?”

“Yeah man, that’s what got me into materials. I asked too many questions about the metals and gemstones I was using.” You sigh.

“Damn, do you have any pictures of your work? I’ve never actually met a Goldsmith before.”

“Well… I have pictures… but my phone won’t turn on.” You think for a moment, “Actually… I have some pictures on a few of my old business cards. Lemme see if I’ve got them with me.”

You rifle through your purse, looking for the small zippered compartment that houses your wallet.

“Yeah! Here they are.” Holding out a few of the cards, he picks them up to look through. 

“What technique did you use to make this?” He asks, after studying the card with your favorite and most recent large-scale piece on it.

“It’s all 3D printed. The metal portion is Laser Sintered stainless steel, infiltrated with bronze and plated in 18 Karat yellow gold. The other part is white nylon.” 

He looks at it again, “This one is definitely my favorite. Do you have a website?”

“Yeah! The address is on the card.” You’d forgotten how useful a website could be.

Looking up your homepage on his phone, you give him a guided tour of all your pieces and how you made them. All of the photos were taken and edited by you, some of them featuring friends who you’d paid to have them model. Anna and him both seemed interested in the 3D printing process, and they kept asking you what kinds of printers you had worked with.

You’d actually had a lot of experience with printers, you realized, as you were able to list off the types and programs and other details which you thought you’d forgotten.

“I’d really love to have you come talk to my coworker, Jeffrey. He’s here now if you’d like to come up and meet him. He’s got a few 3D printers at our workspace.”

“Sure.” You nodded, beginning to stand up, “Is he down front?”

You and Anna are led by her dad towards the right facing side of the stage.

“No, he’s up with the others in the Private section.” He points above your head.

You look up, and to your surprise, you were standing under the private balcony. It had somehow filled with people without you realizing it.

You blanche. “Uh… are we… _allowed_?”

“Anna and I both have passes.” He nods, and pulls out a lanyard from under his button down shirt that you hadn’t noticed was there. “We were just on the floor for the question segment.”

“Are you… sure? Would you _really_ want me to come up with you?” Your eyes wide, “Because I _want_ to say _yes_.”

There was some shock setting in. He wouldn’t have asked you if he thought you would say yes, right? Like… maybe it was just the polite thing to do?

“Absolutely! I think he’d love to meet you.” He affirms.

Ok, decision time. If you stay down here then you could work on getting your phone to turn on, sit on the floor, and wait for your friends to show up so that you could find them. You’d miss the opportunity to head up to the private section… but it felt… _weird_.

Like, _extremely_ weird. This shit doesn’t happen in real life. You don’t just get to meet famous people by talking the shit outta them. You don’t just chat your way to things like this. You’d literally _just met_ these extremely nice famous people who somehow thought you were good enough for them to introduce to _other_ important people.

You would just be imposing on others who probably didn’t want anything to do with you.

Then again… maybe this was real. Maybe this was a reality where Dan called you a Disney Princess, and you got to meet your most revered internet heroes. Maybe… you just had to go along with it and see what happens. See where an opportunity like this takes you.

You felt that this was a once in a lifetime chance. You breathe in deeply.

“Yeah… ok. I would _love_ to meet him. But I’m going to have to keep a lookout for my friends. I can’t exactly text them at the moment.”

Anna’s dad nods and smiles at you, “Sure! You don’t have to stay up there the whole time if you don’t want to.”

Oh… you would totally want to.

He leads you to the stairs, blocked off by a security guard and some rope. He walks up to the guard and introduces himself, showing the guard his pass.

You try to make out what he’s telling him, “She’s with me and my daughter.” You hear, and he points to you. You smile and wave in a way that you feel would make you look harmless.

You’re aware that it would be hard to make yourself look dangerous anyways, there’s nothing threatening about your stature to begin with. Like fluffy hair and big eyes. The exact definition of a murderer.

The guard pauses… then motions you forward along with Anna. 

Oh _god_. OK, man, you’ve got this.

You steadily walk past the guard, waving you along. The stairs gently sloped along the wall, partially carpeted in a way that suggested it had been more expensive to install than the hardwood floors of the pit area.

It’s ok dude, you just gotta pep yourself up for this. You can always blame the embarrassment on the drink from earlier… yeah. No one would ever have to know that you were practically sweating yourself out of your skin. 

Did you smell? You do a pit sniff check, and everything seems fine.

You round the top of the stairs, Anna and her dad already beginning to engage themselves in a conversation with another guy sitting at one of the tables. It was a packed and intimate space, less room than you’d imagined, really. A group of about ten tables were organized along the balcony railing and structural wall.

The lights were still bright enough that you could make out facial features, but the way that the balcony was positioned meant that it was not as illuminated as the concert floor. A few colored spotlights drenched the small area in blues and purples.

Most of the people were standing and conversing with each other, only a few older people sitting down. You notice a tall guy with extremely curly hair, resembling that one famous radio host…. What was his name? Howard something?

You lean over the railing, looking at the other VIP’s down below, taking a second to compose yourself. You check for your friends, but see no one entering the area for now.

You hear your name from somewhere behind you. Turning around, Anna’s dad is motioning for you to come over to the middle aged guy sitting at a table. You head over and shake the man’s hand with a firm, albeit clammy, hand.

“So,” He begins, in a low familiar baritone, “I hear you’re a physicist?”

You nod, “Yup, just graduated, actually. I did a bunch of stuff with 3D printers in my previous degree, and my master’s thesis involved materials that could be recycled and reused as extrusion filament.”

“Congrats, must be nice to be done.” He smiles, “I’m Jeffrey, the main host at CCCM.”

You laugh, “Yes! I know, I could tell from your voice… I hope that’s not super creepy.”

“Nah, not at all. It’s always nice to meet a fan. What was your previous degree, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I was in art… did a lot of 3D modeling and printing for metals and jewelry design.”

Jeffrey hummed in thought, nodding, “So what does that make you now? Are you going back to art?”

“Well... I’m kinda doing both, just trying to negotiate a job in materials engineering. I guess you could say I’m a ‘Phartist’.” 

You find yourself relieved to hear him laugh, you always felt a little anxious talking about yourself, and the situation at hand didn’t help. He seemed nice though, which was what you’d assumed. He wasn’t the most jovial one of the podcast, so making him laugh felt like a good sign.

There was movement out of the corner of your eye, and you find yourself watching the tall curly haired guy make his way toward you and the stairs. He sees you look at him and waves in your direction.

“Nice hair!” He says.

You laugh, “You too!” 

He stops next to you, and for a moment you turn your attention to him. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like that famous radio host?” You say.

“Howard Stern? I get it all the time! They should pay me to be his double!” His boisterous laughter takes you by surprise, the intensity more than you were prepared for.

His movements were somewhat erratic, spilling a bit of the drink in his hand. Some of it sloshed onto your arm.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Lemme get you a napkin.” Before you could say anything, he’d already turned around and made a bee-line for the closest table.

You turn back around to Jeffrey, mild shock in your expression. 

“I think that was just one of Dan’s local friends.” Jeffrey says. You look into his goatee and nod. “He’s a comic book artist, you should see his stuff. Really great.”

You smell what he’d spilled on you. Great. Beer.

The curly haired guy pops up behind you, putting his bottle on the table with a bit more force than necessary.

“I’m sorry man, here’s a napkin. We’re partying a little hard tonight.” He concentrates on wiping your arm and a part of the table.

“No worries, normally I’m the one doing the spilling.” You laugh, “And you should _totally_ be partying it up! This is practically a homecoming concert, go as hard as you want.”

“Woo!” He shouts to the ceiling, then turns to some others who had been watching the event unfold from a distance, “Did you hear that? It’s gonna be a good night!” He slings a lanky arm around your shoulders, and you laugh, happy that the colored lighting is keeping people from seeing your reddening face.

“I heard your cool question, Princess, but I don’t think Brian needs any more ego-fluffing.” He laughs.

“Oh, thanks, but it was kinda relevant to what I’d been thinking. Plus… I feel like the crowd gets easily infatuated with Danny… just trying to even it out, is all.”

“Ya know,” He continues, and you’re not sure that he’d listened to what you’d said, “I bet _Momma Sexbang_ would like to hear that about her son.” 

You’re not really into the glint of mischief in his eyes. “Eh… that’s ok, she probably doesn’t want to hear it.”

“Nonsense! Lets go!” He pulls you towards the tables closer to the stage, your heart beating out of your chest.

The table he’s bringing you towards is the only one where all four chairs are being used, and those sitting look to be quite a bit older than you.

What have you gotten yourself into.

“ _Momma Sexbang_!” Drawing out the vowels languidly, he pushes you in front of him.

“Doesn’t she look like that Disney Princess? The one with the big red curly hair? _Brave_?”

Who you can only assume is Danny’s _mom_ turns to look at you, visibly _much_ calmer than the guy next to you. She looks a little different than what you could have expected; lighter hair than Danny’s, and definitely lacking the curly texture. Her eyes are a warm brown, and seem to be studying you. You look at her like a lifeline, hoping to somehow signal your discomfort.

“Oh, yes dear, you are _stunning_.” She smiles, easily.

She turns to the man behind you, “If you don’t mind, would you please get some waters for us? The server hasn’t been back for a while.” 

“Absolutely!” He nods, “That’s what I was trying to do before running into _her_.” He pats your shoulder.

“Be back in a flash!” And with that, the chaotic energy is gone.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, grateful to have the guy leave for a bit. This was a lot… you didn’t know how much longer you would be able to keep your talkative self invested in meeting people. Even _you_ had your limits.

“Please, have a seat. You really are gorgeous, darling.” Momma sexbang motions for you to take an empty chair.

“Oh! Well… thank you.” You move the chair a bit closer and relax into the seat. “I can see where Danny gets his good looks from. I’m sorry for bothering you, and I won’t be here long. I’m trying to keep an eye out for my friends downstairs.” You glance over the balcony.

It seems as if more people are coming onto the floor, they probably began letting in the general admissions ticket holders now.

“You’re very welcome to sit as long as you’d like. I know he can be a handful, but he means no harm by it. Hopefully you can rest before leaving.”

Oh _god_ she is _so sweet_. You’d listened to a few stories of Dan talking about his parents, and how much he loved his mother. You could see why, now.

“No, he’s very nice! Just a lot of energy… wasn’t really expecting it.” You admit, sheepishly.

“So I have to know,” She begins, in a soothing low tone, “where _does_ your red hair come from? It’s lovely.”

“It uh… comes from both sides of my family.” You explain, “Partially from my grandma on my mom’s side, and from my grandma on my dad’s side. The curls come from my Jewish family.”

“Oh how wonderful! Is your family local?” She asks, a melodic lilting at the ends of her sentences.

“Kinda… my Jewish side is from Connecticut and New Jersey, and my mom’s side has been in Philly for generations. I’m only half-jewish, but I visit my cousins in Jersey for Passover when I can.” You remember fondly.

“Ah, where in New Jersey, sweetheart?” 

“Oh, um…. near Cherry Hill, I think? I don’t know the uh…. exact town. I’m terrible with names of people and places, sorry.”

“It’s beautiful over there, we’re near Springfield.”

“Ah… that’s… much farther north, right?” You try to remember what the hell shape New Jersey looks like, which doesn’t really help anyways. 

“Yes, it’s actually very close to New York City.” She nods.

You took a moment to lean and look over the railing, trying to see if anyone had the tell-tale blonde hair like Maggie’s. Sitting in the chair and talking to Danny’s mom made you feel anxious. You turn to see her looking at you.

“Sorry, I was just… uh… keeping an eye out for my friends. My phone died, so I can’t text them.”

She waves it off, “That’s alright, but if you don’t mind my asking,” You steel yourself for a what could be a very personal question, “is there something that you use in your hair to get those wonderful curls?”

“Oh!” You laugh, “Well, I don’t put a lot in my hair, but I use some really nice conditioner. It’s called ‘Deva Curl’. The name is funny but it works really well.” Twirling a curl, you bounce it to show her. “I get asked that a lot, so it’s no problem.”

“I also get asked if I hate it, or something.” You continue, “Which I never have, but I think people with straight hair always feel that people with curly hair wish theirs was different.”

She hums in agreement, “That’s what Danny got asked a lot as a kid. He was never really happy with it until he started this band. Now he’s letting it be its own natural entity.”

“You must be extremely proud of him.” You mention, emphatically, “This is a _big deal_ , too! I mean,” You motion with your arms to the concert hall, “He’s performing in _Times Square_ to a sold out crowd!”

“Yes of course!” She laughs, “But we were _always_ proud of Danny, his father and I,” She motions to the man sitting next to her, who had been talking to someone sitting beside him, “even though we didn’t always understand him.”

You weren’t completely sure, but you thought that the man was Danny’s dad. You’d never seen a picture of him, but you’d probably be able to tell who he was if he spoke to you. That accent from Dan’s stories was very distinctive.

At that moment, the lights dimmed, then returned to normal.

“Uh oh, curtain call.” She warns. 

You begin to stand up, looking over the railing again. There, in the corner on the other side, you think you finally see the blonde hair you’d been looking for.

“Ah! There they are!” You say, trying to push your chair back to the other table, fighting against the friction of the carpet. You turn to Danny’s mom, feeling as though you should bow to her. Instead, she shakes your hand.

“It was lovely to meet you, _Princess_.” She says behind a childlike smile, eyes alight with something you can’t name.

“Thank _you_! The pleasure is all mine, it was an honor to talk to you.” You nod, only bowing a bit as you release her hand from your nervous grip, “I hope you enjoy the concert, and congrats for the success!”

She waves you off, readjusting to turn to her husband, “Have fun!”

You begin heading to the stairs, eyes trying to lock onto your friends while managing to not run into anyone standing.

“Hey!” You twirl in a few directions before you find the person who shouted at you, “We’re gonna party at Snafu later tonight! Meet us there!” The lanky comic guy says from across the balcony, free hand cupped around his mouth.

“I’ll try!” You shout back, still walking.

The noise of all the people filtering into the hall is staggering. You manage to catch Jeffrey and Anna’s dad closer to the stairs.

“I just wanted to say thank you for introducing us, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to stay and talk longer. I’ve gotta go catch up with my friends downstairs.” You feel a bit frantic to get back down to the floor, and a bit closer to your comfort zone.

“That’s totally fine, go find them and be careful, it’s a zoo down there!” Anna’s dad shakes your hand strongly, “If you don’t mind, Anna wants to tag along for a bit and be in all the commotion.” He hands you a business card, “Email me anytime! We could always use another female voice on the show.”

“Ah! Sure!” You say, surprised, blindly stuffing the card into your purse, “And I will! It’s been _wonderful_ talking with you.”

Jeffrey seems busy conversing with another person at the table, so you don’t interrupt him, and walk to the cusp of the stairs. Anna follows you down, the floor having been immediately swamped with people. The guard removes the rope, and you make sure that Anna is following right behind you.

After shoving and pushing your way to the far side, you see Maggie. She waves you down with both arms, Cathy and Xavier by her side. You reach them, panting.

They look a bit harried and frustrated, but before Maggie could open her mouth to ask you why you hadn’t been texting them, you can’t keep your excitement inside any longer.

“You guys….” You say, trying to catch your breath, “Are _never_ going to believe what happened.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all who commented on the last chapter! It was extremely helpful. I tried to take some of your advice and focus a bit more on what the reader feels and/or thinks in certain situations. 
> 
> Also, for anyone who's gone to an NSP/TWRP/STARBOMB concert, I **absolutely** recommend looking up your concert on youtube. I ended up doing that to get the description of the theater more accurate, and noticed that I could _see myself_ towards the side, ahahaha!


	3. Attitude City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan's POV of the best night ever... maybe?

##### Part 7

From the moment he’d arrived in New York City, Dan could tell that tonight’s performance was going to be different from the rest. 

The air had felt electrified. Brian had felt it too, talking to him in an excited voice that he’d only seldom heard coming from the guy. It wasn’t super abnormal to be high on an adrenaline rush right before the concert, but it had been… somehow more pronounced.

Planet Booty had practically tumbled from the stage with wild eyes and loud voices.

“The crowd is fuckin’ _pumped_ tonight!”

And they were. 

Dan thought it could be a mix of a few things impacting the mood; one of which would have to be that it was their first concert in Times Square. In all their NYC avenues, Brian and him had never been able to score such a big theater, let alone _completely sell out_ of tickets.

They’d never had such monetary padding for an event like this.

Dan had also known beforehand that his close family and friends were going to be in the audience, either in the private seating or general admission. His parents had called ages ago wanting to support him and purchase tickets. He’d of course declined, and issued them the Private tickets for free. 

There was no way in hell that he’d have his own family pay for tickets. Not with the amount of revenue he would be reeling in on the tour.

Some of his friends from the nearby area had also called him and congratulated them on their success. He took it in stride, but had a hard time believing how far he’d come. If someone had travelled from now to the past, to tell his younger self that he’d be on stage in a blue leotard singing songs about dick to a sold-out audience, he’d probably call the police. No fuckin’ way, man.

He wished that Arin had been travelling with them as planned, but he understood that family came first. They’d kept in touch throughout the whole tour so far, and he knew that this was a performance that Arin would be sad he’d missed.

Arin had the ability to disarm Dan, something that probably would have helped the nerves he’d had to shove down with some chamomile tea backstage. Before long, it’d been time to go out for a quick Q & A session. As usual, they’d only had about half-an-hour for that segment.

Dan and Brian had walked on stage to cheers and screams from the VIP ticket holders; the crew behind the stage had lowered the stage lights and pointed a few in the audience, as per their request before hand.

That’s when he’d seen her.

A big glowing cloud of red hair jumping up and down in the back.

He felt that there was something familiar about that big hair, recognizing that it was a mirror image of what his hair looked like in the stage light.

There was just… something about her…

She was smiling in a way that seemed to light up the concert hall even brighter than any of the spotlights. Her movements were fluid and joyous, a distinct rhythm in the way she waved her arms back and forth. Like she was dancing to a song he couldn’t hear.

Everything about her looked like an 80’s dreamgirl.

He’d had to keep prying his eyes away from her, talking to the audience and looking at Brian. But his eyes would always go straight back to the girl in the spotlight. She wasn’t standing very close to anybody, so he assumed that she must have come here by herself, a bold move for anyone coming to Times Square.

Dan had gotten to choose the first question, and he didn’t want to be so fuckin’ obvious, so he’d gone with the buff guy in the banana suit. Clearly the dude had guts.

The girl calmly waited for the banana dude to ask his question, and hadn’t said anything out of turn. He couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying to pay attention, or just barely paying attention at all.

Then, it was Brian’s turn to choose, and Dan watched the girl during the whole process. The way that she closed her eyes when she smiled, barely noticeable dimples forming on her flushed cheeks. Her lips were just lightly glossed, and her eyes sparkled in the spotlight. She moved in a way that felt like pure joy.

It felt like he could _breathe again_. Just by watching her.

Something in his gut unwound when she closed her eyes, unaware of the others around her.

He watched her lose herself in the moment.

Oh _man_ … he was so _fucked_.

It was his turn to choose, and he couldn’t stop himself from picking her, that cute fuckin’ Disney Princess.

He watched her slowly realize that he’d called on her, eyes opening, her facial expression frozen in confusion. He felt bad somehow, about pulling her out of her own world.

The other spotlights in the crowd shut off, leaving only the spotlight on her, shining like a star. Dan was drinking her in, like she was the only glass of water on earth. 

He heard her voice for the first time, a calm melodic tone that was lower than he had been expecting for a girl her size. The sheen of sweat glistening on the skin above the low front of her shirt caught his eyes. Oh fuck, how old was she? What was the age difference? Was he being a fuckin’ super creep right now?

She didn’t seem to stutter, but he could tell that some nervousness had crept into the way she had to pause for breath. Its ok baby girl, take your time. He’d be here _all night_ listening to her voice if he had to. In fact, a part of him _wanted_ to.

Her head turned directly to Dan, though he could tell that she was having a hard time seeing them through the light. He knew how that felt.

A little sting of disappointment hit him when she said her question wasn’t for him. Goddamnit, Brian, always cock-blocking him. But maybe it was for the better, it would be hard to remain neutral while talking with her, _especially_ since he had no idea how old she was.

Wait… did she say she’s studying Physics? And it’s her _second_ degree?  
God-fucking- _dammit_ , Brian.

And her question was actually pretty nice and thoughtful, not that he was expecting something terrible, just that he’s heard a _lot_ of other types of questions. Like the hair touching question. 

Brian, in an animated fashion, responded thoughtfully as well. Dan sometimes forgot he was a Physicist. 

He saw someone yank the microphone from her hands, a bit more forcefully than he would have liked. Before he knew it, her time in the spotlight was over.

Literally. He saw her back out of the spotlight she was standing in, and then she disappeared from his sight.

Some time later, questions were over and it was time for them to get changed. He didn’t regret his circumstances, but he wished that he’d met her at a different time.

##### Part 8

The rest of the concert had been an incredible experience. Dan had never felt such good energy from the audience, and it was like the city came alive just for them. 

New York City was his honorary home. To have his friends and family here to witness one of the best performances he’s ever done, just felt like such a _win_. Like he’d finally _made it_. The _high_ it gave him was something… like… he couldn’t even _begin_ to describe what it felt like. 

The dancing and screams made him feel like he was shining like the sun, with full command of the audience at his fingertips. 

He never wanted to step off stage. 

Electric guitar and baselines beat out a rhythmic momentum, keeping people imprisoned in the sound. TWRP was fantastic, not a chord out of tune or out of place.

 _Nothing_ could have gone smoother.

His body began to ache as lethargy slowly crept in, signalling that the finale was near. They did their signature move, leaving the stage then coming back for the encore.

“Thank you, New York City! You’ve been amazing, and we love you! Good night!” He shouted into the mic, crowd still wild with energy. They left the stage, careful not to step on any of the equipment, though the staff had already swarmed in to pack up.

Brian and the members of TWRP ran down to the lounge with Dan, sharing excited glances and hollering at each other.

They were all still high off the crowd, Dan giving out hugs like his life depended on it.

“Fuckin’ _awesome_ work guys! Holy _shit_ TWRP!” Dan said, realizing how hoarse his voice actually felt.

They got ushered to their changing rooms, removing the layers of sweaty clothes and props, though Dan’s own funky sweat glands kept his spandex nice and dry, but uncomfortable anyways.

He changed back into his normal clothes, donning his favorite white leather jacket.

Brian and him were supposed to head down to this high class cool jazz club with a few friends, where a private section had been reserved just for them. Dan asked one of his awesome assistants to check if the reservation would be ready for them in a few hours.

His family and friends were escorted back stage into the lounge, and he laughed when he saw how drunk most of them were. His relatives were sober for the most part, congratulating him. Even his grandma had made it down, enveloping him in a gentle hug.

“We are _so proud_ of you, Daniel.” She smiled at him.

The corners of his eyes felt unexpectedly moist, and he hugged her again. He wiped at his face, receiving hugs from his mom and dad as well. This was more than he could ever ask for.

His assistant signalled from the background that the reservation was still good, not wanting to interrupt the gathering.

One of his best friends, who also happened to be fuckin’ hammered, invited him to join their party at a local dive bar called Snafu, but Dan didn’t know if that was such a good idea. He wasn’t sure if he’d be completely up for too many crowds later tonight… but maybe staying for a bit wouldn’t hurt.

He said he’d wing by. If not, there was tomorrow. NSP and TWRP were getting lucky and staying two nights at a hotel nearby, instead of their usual tour bus. Dan had connections and they were going to be playing in Philly Sunday night anyways.

At least, he knew that tonight could be a late night, and he’d still be able to get enough sleep the next night to be ready for the next concert.

His family wouldn’t be up for much longer, they still had a car ride back to New Jersey, and they already looked a bit tired. He offered to walk them to their car, and they obliged.

Heading down the performer’s exit, he notified the staff that he was leaving the building, knowing that his team would take care of the rest. They’d been such a necessity, now that the tours had been getting bigger.

They led him to their car, parked above-ground in a private lot he’d been able to reserve for friends and family.

“Are you sure you guys don’t want to stay a bit longer? Grab a bite to eat with us?” Dan asked, holding his grandmother’s arm to help support her.

“Danny, go enjoy a night out with your friends, you deserve it.” His mom intoned.

He shook his head, having already known that would be the answer.

“Oh!” She added, “By the way, we met a very nice girl… someone you might be interested in…” The corners of her lips forming a sly smile, one that Dan had seen whenever she had tried to set him up with someone. 

“Mom, thank you, but I’m pretty sure I’ll figure it out by myself.” Dan groaned.

He turned his head in time to miss the glint of mischief in her eyes. 

Reaching the car, he opened the rear door where he helped his grandmother into the car. Once she was in place, she pecked him with a kiss on the cheek.

As the car headed off, he watched and waved, the residual heat from the day still soaked into the asphalt and slowly warming his feet. A part of him was so used to being awake at night, that the reminder of the daylight didn’t sadden him the way it had before.

He stood for a second more, then turned back, heading down to the crew area to help get things straightened out.

##### Part 9

His time spent helping the crew had been much shorter than he’d planned, mostly due to everyone trying to shew him off the premises. He normally wouldn’t have listened, but after about an hour of people trying to get rid of him, he’d looked around and saw that everything important had already been packed away. There were more people than usual, so it had gone much quicker than he’d expected.

He’d sauntered over to his assistant, letting her know that she could finally leave. She was cute in the way that she cocked her head when she listened to him, eyes focused on his face. Though, it would never work out. He didn’t like to mix work and relationships. Plus, he was almost positive that she had a girlfriend, though he’d never be impolite and ask about something that wasn’t his business.

Before heading out into Times Square, he texted Brian that he’d be leaving the theater. The Ninja was nowhere to be seen, so he’d found one of the TWRP managers and told him he was leaving.

It was very unlikely that anyone from the concert would still be waiting over by the main entrance for him to exit the building, even so, he found himself heading toward one of the side exits.

Just barely peeking from around the corner, and trying to do so _without_ looking conspicuous, the exit looked beautifully clear of people. Sighing, he opened the door to the busy Times Square nightlife.

 _This_ was something that he loved. All of the noises, lights, and people felt so nostalgic to him, like a glimpse into the past. The late summer heat still hadn’t left the busy streets, and party goers were showing off as much skin as possible. He checked his watch, figuring he only had about an hour until his reservation, and he should still drop by the bar where his friends were.

He walked down the streets, surprised he could still remember the area. Maybe he didn’t need to route the bar in the gps after all.

He found himself trying to push and shove his way through some areas where the foot traffic came to a high crescendo, footsteps and cars beating out a jumbled song in his brain.

Ending up on the opposite street side of the dive bar, he could see just how jam packed the entrance was. _Yikes_ … He liked people… he _truly_ did. But… after performing tonight and all of the other nights in the tour… he wasn’t sure that he’d want to strain his voice even more at a crowded bar. His friends would understand, they were chill people. They’d get that he was just not up for it.

He crossed the street, determined to at least try to call them and have them meet him outside. It took two tries, but after some time, he managed to reach one of them. They guy was shouting into the phone and Dan couldn’t completely make out what he was saying, but managed to talk him into coming outside.

His friend almost tripped down the stairs, clearly drunk out of his mind, rambling on about how cool Dan had been on stage and how cool he was in general. He’d wrapped his arm around Dan’s shoulders and the smell of alcohol just _bulldozed_ his senses.

Dan had thanked him for coming out to see the show, gently trying to convince him to get a taxi home. He hadn’t listened, so Dan had called another friend in the area to come and pick him up.

He maneuvered him over to a bench, handing him a water bottle he’d snagged before leaving the theater. Even though his friend was still drunkenly blathering on about the concert, Dan felt grateful for the time to sit with him. He’d told him how the tour had been so far, even though Dan knew he wasn’t paying attention.

There were only a few moments when Dan was worried that his friend was going to puke, but luckily, nothing had happened.

About twenty minutes later, their mutual friend showed up, and she helped him into the car, thanking Dan for calling her. They’d left and Dan had some time to himself again.

He started strolling towards the Jazz Club where his reservation was, when he’d had to stop for a light to change. Feeling a buzz through his jacket, he pulled out his phone and realized he’d missed a text from Brian.

Great. So now Brian wasn’t going to be coming to the club with Dan. He’d apparently met up with some old colleagues and were at a different bar. 

He was inadvertently glaring at the message on his phone when someone short ran into him from behind. A mildly hilarious grunt came from the person, and something that sounded like their teeth clacking together.

“Ow, _fuck_ … sorry ‘bout that.” She said.

He turned around to the sight of a girl with big red hair, rubbing her jaw in frustration.

Oh… _oh_ … it was _her_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late publish, guys! Things have been crazy hectic at home. I'm planning maybe... two more chapters??? 
> 
> We shall see ;)


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